CALENDAR GIRL: NOVEMBER
BOOK 11
CONTENTS
Calendar Girl: November Copyright
Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 The End
Excerpt from December Calendar Girl (Book 12) Also by Audrey Carlan
This book is an original publication of Audrey Carlan.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is
entirely coincidental. The publisher does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2015 Waterhouse Press, LLC Cover Design by Tibbs Design
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authorized editions.
Ekatarina Sayanova
Editing someone’s story is like critiquing a woman’s child. It’s not easy to do without being hurtful.
Somehow, time and time again, you are able to do that for me.
You edit with grace, compassion, and consideration. I am undeniably grateful for you.
Under your guidance and with every story, I become a better writer.
Chapter One
Snowflakes. Unique, fragile, and no two were alike. Absolutely fascinating. I caught one in my mouth as they fell from the sky. It melted the instant it touched my tongue. The flurries held me spellbound as several fell onto my eyelashes, momentarily distorting my vision. I blinked them away and exhaled. A cloud of mist from my heated breath
mimicked a plume of smoke. Holding my hands out wide, I spun in a slow circle, allowing the featherlight flakes to land on my face and open hands.
“If you’re done playing in the snow, can we go into the hotel already?” Wes laughed. “I’m freezing!” He pressed his frozen nose into the warmth at my neck. He circled his arms around me from behind, hugging me close. I covered his arms with mine.
“It’s so cool! It rarely snows in Vegas and definitely not in LA.” I watched in awe at nature's wonder.
He snuggled against my neck, placing a layer of kisses up the column. “It is cool…as in my balls are freezing, and my dick has turned into an icicle.”
“Well, I always did love flavored ice.” I giggled and spun around, bringing us face-to-face. “Thank you for coming with me. Honestly, I wasn’t ready to be away from you.”
Wes smiled in the way that made me want to jump him. Good Lord, my man was smokin' hot, even bundled up wearing a beanie.
“Who would pass up two weeks in New York City with a beautiful lady?” He leaned close, rubbed our noses together, and pecked me on the lips.
Liar. When the show told me I had to go to the Big Apple for a couple weeks and film celebrities for Dr. Hoffman’s special Be Thankful segment as well as my Living Beautiful weekly piece, he didn’t seem all that interested. Said he avoided the East Coast like the plague during the winter months. Guess the Atlantic Ocean wasn’t warm enough or the waves conducive to a hardcore surfer…and the temperatures compared to California’s Gold Coast were positively frigid.
I’d settled on the fact that I’d be without Wes for two weeks, which for me was too soon after his captivity. The mere thought of being separated from him for any length of time gave me hives, but I did everything I could to act unaffected. He was on the road to recovery and doing incredibly well with his therapy. The last thing I wanted him to think was that I didn’t believe he could handle himself for two weeks without his overprotective girlfriend to watch over him.
It wasn’t until I’d made plans to interview my buddy Mason Murphy, star pitcher for the Red Sox, and Anton Santiago, the Latin Lov-ah, that he changed his mind. One night last week, Wes confided that he'd had an entire session with his therapist, Anita Shofner, about the men I still had in my life. He knew I took calls regularly from Mason, Tai,
trust him due to his reputation for being a ladies' man. Even Mason, who was head over heels in love with his PR gal, Rachel, had his hackles rising.
Did I say anything about it though? Nope. Not if it got my man to come to NYC with me. I knew it was cruel, but when he’d asked what I’d be doing with the men after I interviewed them, I just shrugged and told him I'd do whatever they wanted to do. Five minutes later, Wes was packing a suitcase.
“When are we meeting with your friends?” There was a hint of irritation in his tone. His reaction to seeing Anton again and meeting Mason was odd. My guy had always been really down to Earth and comfortable in his own skin. Only, after the experience in Indonesia, he still hadn’t gotten completely back to his easy-going self. His therapist assured me it would take time and to continue to give him something good to focus on— that being us, and our burgeoning relationship.
“This evening, we’re meeting with Anton and Heather. He’s planned dinner for us at his pad. Mace and Rach don’t come in until later in the week.” What I didn’t tell Wes was that Anton had offered us the use of his penthouse in Manhattan for our stay. I knew Wes wouldn’t be thrilled. When we were in Miami, he liked Anton well enough, but that was when we were just admitting our love for one another. We were too busy worrying about what the other thought to be concerned with anyone else around us.
Taking our time, we unpacked our things into the hotel dresser drawers, showered, and made love. I could feel the tension seep right out of Wes’s pores when he released inside of me, words of love spilling from his lips.
While I lay there catching my breath, a Mia blanket over my man, I felt Wes lift my left hand, bring it to his lips, and kiss each finger. Then the sneaky bastard slid something weighted over my bare ring finger.
“When are we going to get married?” he asked out of the blue. We were both naked, had just had some intensely pleasurable, drowsy after-travel sex, and I was lying limp on top of his chest. I’d ridden him for all I was worth and would likely have the fingerprint marks on each hip to prove it.
I blinked and pushed my hair out of my face, setting one hand on top of the other over his heart. I liked feeling his heart beat under me, knowing it was mine.
“Is that a proposal?” I quipped.
His eyes narrowed, and he tipped his chin toward my hand. I looked down at the band of diamonds sparkling back at me. “We’ve already discussed this.” He added, “You know that you’re never getting asked. You don’t have the option to decline.” His words were firm, leaving no room for compromise.
Pushing up, I sat naked on top of him and focused all of my attention on the most exquisite ring I’d ever seen, which now adorned my finger. It was a single band of
could still ride Suzi without worrying about my riding gloves. It was simply perfect.
Tears filled my eyes. “So you’re really not going to ask me?” I choked back a little sob while staring at what was apparently an engagement ring.
He sat up, looped an arm around my back, pushed his heels against the mattress, and propelled backwards until he was sitting up against the headboard, me straddling his lap.
He tunneled his fingers into my hair, keeping my face level with his. “Do you really need me to ask?” His eyes were a brilliant green as he forced me to look him in the eye.
“Need? No. Want? Kind of,” I admitted while water leaked from my eyes.
Wes sighed and rubbed his forehead against mine. “Don’t make me regret this,” he whispered, his voice shaking with what was probably his anxiety—even worry—about how I would respond. “Mia, my love, my life, will you marry me?”
I looked into his eyes and could see concern, as if I might say no. Not in a million flippin’ years would I deny sealing this man to me for eternity. “Instead of another ring, can I have another motorcycle?”
Wes blinked, tipped his head back, and laughed.
I kissed his chest as he lost it, and I pecked and nipped my way up his neck to his ear. “Yes, baby. I’ll marry you.” I said the words I knew he wanted to hear.
He tightened his arms around me. “I’m going to make you so happy.”
I looked him dead in the face. “Then you are getting me a new motorcycle?” I responded hopefully.
He shook his head and kissed me—over and over until my mouth was so bruised I could barely feel his lips pressed to mine.
“When?” he growled into my ear, moving his way down to my bare breasts. Looked like round two would commence in two point five seconds.
“Um…next year?” I answered, gripping his head to my breast as he latched onto one erect peak.
“Mmm. Okay, January first it is.” Wes mumbled around the erect tip. He plucked my other nipple and sucked hard on the first.
“Oh yeah.” I moaned. “Wait…what?”
I knocked on the door to Anton’s New York City penthouse. Wes stood at my side, arm around my waist, holding me close. The door opened just when I was about to knock again. I was actually surprised I had to knock at all, since the front desk had called up.
“You’re here!” Heather said, bouncing up on her toes. She wore a pair of open-toed boot stilettos that made her already tall frame hit extreme goddess stature. Her blond hair was rock star cool as it had been when we were in Miami. She was wearing a skintight hot pink long-sleeved shirt that said Pink is the new Black in white lettering across her bust. The shirt was slouchy and tucked into her skinny jeans with a studded belt for a look that conveyed “I’m a badass.” There were fuchsia streaks throughout her hair that made her look ultra-hip. Hell, she was ultra-hip.
weeks to go shopping with her in LA. I’d have to do that when I got back.
Heather pulled me out of Wes’s arms and into hers, swayed me left and right, and then held me at arm's length and looked me over. “Girl, didn’t I buy you clothes in Miami? Why aren’t you wearing them?” Her nose crinkled up in a way that wasn’t meant to be bitchy, just honest.
I groaned and shook my head. “I’m comfortable.” I tugged at my long-sleeved concert T-shirt from the Lorde show I’d seen with Maddy last year. That chick had brought the house down, and the shirt was damn cool. I’d paired it with a pair of my tight faded jeans, complete with shredded holes in the thighs, and a pair of two-inch shit kickers, as Max called them—though I’d never kicked any shit in them and they were relatively new. Cindy had sent a pair to Maddy and me to remind us of what was waiting for us back in Texas. They were really cool, too. Black leather, an interesting design on the toe, and a more square than pointed toe. The best part? They had this rockin’ buckle on the outside where the ankle was.
Heather clocked the shoes. “Hmm, the boots are cute.” Wes cleared his throat behind me.
“Oh, snap. Heather, you remember my boyfriend, Wes?” I gestured to Wes’s shoulder. “Um, I think you mean fiancé, sweetheart.” He smirked and winked.
Heather’s eyes widened as if she’d been electrocuted on the spot. “Holy black balls, Batman! You’re getting married! That is so awesome!” She pulled both of us into a combo hug, looping one arm each around our necks. “Heck, yeah. Anton is gonna love this. Weddings are his gig!”
I snort laughed. “How’s that? Seeing as he’s never been married.”
“Yeah, but he’s been engaged a bunch of times!” she said flippantly. She led us through the spacious penthouse to the kitchen, where we found Anton moving his hips against the six-burner stove to a beat only he could hear. The room smelled utterly divine. I caught a whiff of something sizzling that reminded me of food south of the border.
“Who’s getting married?” Anton spun around, wooden spatula still in hand. “Lucita! You? Tell me it isn’t so.” He crossed both hands over his heart and shrank back against the counter’s edge.
I laughed. Wes didn’t. He slung an arm over my shoulders. “Yep. Show ’em your ring. We’ll be getting married on the first of January.” His words were filled with male pride.
I held up my hand and looked at Wes, confused.
Anton’s eyes widened. “So soon. Wow. As my grandmother would say, you do not lollygag.” He grinned and winked.
“We did not set a date.” I cocked my head toward Wes.
His eyebrows rose sharply. “I believe we did right before we came. Remember?” “Anything discussed during the heat of coital bliss does not count. That’s coercion!” I puffed out my bottom lip.
engaged. I still hadn’t even called Maddy or Gin. They’d freak if it got out before I’d had a chance to call them.
“We’ll talk about this later. Okay?” I leaned up and kissed him once, and then twice for good measure so he’d know I wasn’t blowing him off.
He curled his hand around my cheek to cup my face. With ease, I turned my head and kissed his palm. His eyes were leery, but I could see that a lot of that likely had to do with where and who we were hanging out with tonight.
“Okay, sweetheart. Later. As in, tomorrow.” His response was firm and held an edge of authority.
A compromise was a compromise. “Agreed. Now, Anton, tell me what you’ve been doing. Your last album rocked, by the way!”
“Oh, Lucita, that album was the shiznet. Did you like that one song where I dubbed over a chick's voice?”
“Totally! And Heather, how’s the role of manger treating you?” The last time I’d seen them, she had just been promoted. Anton had not realized how much he was taking advantage of his best friend and personal assistant. And when he was about to lose her, he offered her more to stay. As far as I knew, it was all peaches and cream.
Before she could answer, Anton butted in, which was not at all unusual for him. He loved being the life of the party. Suited his profession of top performing and selling rapper, too. “H is asombroso…how you say? Amazing! The shows she’s pulling off, the clothing deals. Fantástico! Best decision I ever made, promoting her. Glad I thought of it.”
“You!” Heather and I yelled at the same time and then fell into a fit of giggles. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t come up with it. But I agreed with it.”
I rolled my eyes. Heather smirked and crossed her arms.
“Whatever, Anton. What are you feeding us?” I asked, coming around the counter and bumping into his hip.
He didn’t even flinch from stirring the sauce he was watching like a hawk. “Ah, a staple for me and my familia. It is arroz con pollo.”
“I recognize the word chicken, but what is the rest?” He chuckled. “Pretty much rice and chicken.”
“Pulling out all the stops, I see,” I said, deadpan.
Anton pushed my hair off my shoulder and ran his thumb down my cheek. “For you, lucita, the world.” His tone sounded serious, but the twinkle in his eye belied the
mischief.
I snorted. “With chicken and rice?”
His eyebrows narrowed. “Hey, don’t joke. Everyone loves chicken and rice, si?”
“Si, Anton. Wes, you want something to drink?” I turned around and faced Weston. His eyes were plunging daggers straight into the back of Anton’s head, and I hadn’t a clue why. “Wes?” I asked again until his green eyes focused on me. “A drink?”
I inhaled full and deep and let all the tension slip out of my shoulders as I held my hand up and stared at my ring. “Dying, no. Happier than I’d thought I’d be at this moment in my life? Damn straight!” I looked at Wes, and his entire body seemed to soften, the edge he’d had a minute ago gone with my words. His shoulders no longer looked as though they were as high as his ears, and he held his head in the palm of his hand, elbow resting on the kitchen bar in a lazier, more casual resting position.
“What woman wouldn’t be beside herself?” I leaned over the other side of the bar and grabbed his hand. He held mine, lifted it, and kissed the palm. Tingles started low in my back, and I mentally followed them as they tickled along my spine. Those tingles turned into ribbons of heat when he ran his thumb down the center of my palm. I swear it was like a hot button direct to my clit. The moment he scraped his nail along the inside of my hand I had to stifle a moan. Now was not the time or the place to be getting riled up. We had the rest of the night to get through before we could bask in the glory of our love once more. But we would. Oh, yes, we would.
I decided right then and there that I was going to make my man so hard before the night was up that he’d lose his mind in lust before he even took me back to the hotel.
Playing his game, I gripped his hand and pulled on his arm. Then I ran my finger from the inside of his elbow to his wrist where I traced a few figure eights. His eyes lit up, and he grinned, all white even teeth and a dazzling pair of lips I’d never tire of kissing. For a moment, I worried my secret plan to seduce him and make him crazy with lust might backfire on me. He was quick on the uptake, my guy. Regardless, it was a worthy tradeoff. I came around the kitchen counter and stood next to him. He claimed me instantly.
Heather poured the ridiculously expensive champagne. “Come on, Anton. Put the burner on low and get over here,” she urged.
Anton turned a few knobs, spun on his toes as if he were in a Michael Jackson video, tipped his body back, extended his foot out, and shimmied over to her.
“Show-off,” I coughed.
That time, Wes burst out laughing. Finally my guy was loosening the hell up, but I think it had a lot to do with the fact that I was one, wearing his ring; two, clamped to his side; and three, Anton was actually a dork. A sexy as fuck dork, but a dork nonetheless. The first I’d never admit to even if under extreme duress because Wes would lose it. Besides, if Anton’s fans knew how cheesy he was, they’d still love him because his music was on point and he was hot as Hades, but the silly factor might actually score him a few good girls. One could only hope.
Anton lifted his glass, and we all followed suit. “To lucita and her hombre, may you both shine as bright as the sun and share many days lost in amor. Salud.”
I grinned, and for the first time, Wes actually smiled at Anton and nodded. Anton looked at Wes and then at me, tipped his chin, and drank the entire glass in one go. He finished it off with a hearty, “Segundo ronda.”
Wes squeezed the ball of my shoulder, and I cast my eyes to his. “I’m glad we’re here,” he admitted.
are good friends and only want the best for me. Which. Is. You.” I nudged against his cheek with each word.
Wes lifted my head and pecked me on the lips. “I can see that. My head is still…you know…tainted.” He spoke so softly only I could hear. It didn’t matter, because after our toast, Anton went back to cooking, and Heather went back to filling the drinks and then away to put on some tunes.
“No.” I caressed his temples. “Just misplaced concerns. There will never be another. I swear it.”
He nodded and leaned close enough for me to feel his breath against my lips. I could almost taste the notes of the champagne from his breath alone. “And I’ll make sure of that,” he whispered against my mouth before taking my lips in a deep, wet kiss, one far deeper than was appropriate.
Chapter Two
“No! Don’t touch her. Gina! Gina!”
I woke to Wes’s raised voice. He was calling for Gina. I wiped the sleep and way too many glasses of champagne, coupled with martinis-a-plenty, from my eyes and sat up.
Beside me, Wes tossed and turned. The sheets were wrapped around his body, and his forehead was dotted with drops of sweat. Even his chest glistened with slick pools of sweat, which caught the moonlight pouring through the windows. He must have been in the throes of this one for a lot longer than normal. Usually, I was able to place a hand on his arm or chest, and he’d settle, maybe wake up, maybe not. It had been a few days since he’d had a dream. Almost a full week. Things had been going extremely well with the therapy. Since we left Malibu to come to NYC, he missed his last session this past week.
For a second, I cursed myself for being so selfish. Here I wanted him to be with me on assignment in New York when he probably needed the comfort and security of home to continue through the healing process. It had only been five weeks since his captivity. Not nearly enough time to be leaving the one place that made him feel safe. Shit!
I slipped out of bed just as he cried out again.
“Gina…no. No. No, oh my God. Mia! Mia! That’s my wife! Get your filthy hands off her!” He screamed out, his body arching in what looked to be an extremely painful half-moon shape.
Flicking on the lights, I called out to him. “Wes! Please come back to me!” I didn’t want to risk touching him. The one time I did, he shot his arm out and caught me in the rib with his elbow, giving me a nasty bruise that made him feel worse than I did. Since then, I didn’t make a move to wake him physically.
“If you touch Mia…I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you! She’s mine!” he roared.
Grabbing the bottle of water next to my side of the bed, I opened the cap, said a prayer to the big guy upstairs, and poured a line down Wes's chest.
His body shook, and his arms flew out in opposite directions. I was prepared for that and just barely jumped out of the way in time to avoid getting tagged by his automatic fight-or-flight response.
“Mia!” His pupils were fully dilated, and his lips curled in toward his teeth. “Are you okay?” he growled. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was angry with me, still lost in the evil clutches of the dream, or because he genuinely wanted to know.
I licked my lips and pushed my hair off my face. “I’m fine. Do you love me?” I asked this same question every time he had one of these dreams.
“More than anything in the world.” His response was instantaneous.
He moved to get up, but I put a hand out. I still wasn’t sure who this person was. My Wes. Captive Wes. Victim Wes. Dangerous, angry Wes.
“Who am I?” I asked, trying to ensure he wasn’t still locked in his nightmare.
as if it hurt to say them.
I grinned slightly at the use of my name paired with his last name. “That has a really nice ring to it.”
“It sure as hell does. Come here.” His eyes were coming back to the brilliant green I fell in love with all those months ago, but I was still leery.
“Why do you love me?”
He smiled, rubbed his jaw, and let that hand fall to the sheets. “Because I’m not me without you. And I don’t ever want to be a me without you.”
I closed my eyes and crawled over the bed and right into his lap. “Baby”—I cupped his cheeks—“tell me what happened.”
“After,” he whispered before looping an arm around my back and sucking my nipple into his mouth through the silk nightie.
Wes loved me in lingerie. That was a surprise. He’d seemed to be a man who
preferred it on the floor since he usually took it off almost as quickly as I’d put it on. Even so, he said he loved seeing me in it. I arched into his searing kiss, loving the way the silk grated against my tip along with the suction. Divine.
With very little prompting, he found the hem of my nightie where it had bunched at my hips and pulled it up and over my head so he could have unfettered access to my breasts. They were swollen and achy with need as he fed my desire with long licks, deep suckling, and playful, heated nibbles. He played with each burning peak until both of them were as red as cherries and just as round.
“I love your breasts.” He swirled his tongue around one.
“And they love you,” I panted, wanting more, needing far more.
Using my hips, I ground down against his manhood which rose proudly between my thighs. Wes was beautifully naked beneath me. When we finished making love after coming back from having dinner with Anton and Heather, he didn’t bother to don his
briefs. He just rolled against my side after I put on my nightie—sans undies—and jumped back into bed with him. He hooked a leg over mine and crashed.
“Take me inside, sweetheart. I want you wrapped around me.” No better words had ever been said.
“Gladly,” I whispered against his lips, sucking the bottom one into my mouth as I knelt, grabbed his long, thick cock, and nudged it at my entrance.
Closing my eyes, I took him into my body, enjoying every glorious inch of his cock stretching over-sensitive tissues to their maximum. Once I was seated fully and his cock rooted deep, we both sighed. It was one of those sighs that made everything that had happened before disappear. Life, bad dreams, all the things we still had to do in the day to come. Gone. All of that wiped away the instant our bodies joined as one. Pure bliss.
With his hands on my hips, I let him guide me up and down at a pace he set. With Wes, every single time was amazing. There was absolutely nothing like the pure pleasure that came from him nestled deep within me. I’d never get over it. I knew no matter what the future held, I’d die wanting to be with only this man for the rest of my life.
were piercing straight through to my soul.
“So damn deep…” I moaned and took his mouth in a blistering kiss.
He groaned into my mouth as we both enjoyed another meeting of our bodies against one another.
“Need to fuck you hard, Mia. Chase away the demons…” He closed his eyes, fingers digging into my hips.
“Let’s chase them, baby.” I lifted up and squeezed my internal muscles so he’d have no choice but to pay attention to the naked woman wrapped around his cock while sitting on his lap.
“Christ! You’re too good to me,” he said while he slid both palms up my back and curled his hands around my shoulders.
Oh, shit. Anytime he curled those hands he was going for maximum leverage. I was going to walk funny tomorrow, but the orgasm that came with it would rock my world. Just as I suspected, the moment I lifted up, he pulled down with his hands and power drove up into my sex. I cried out, feeling like I'd been split in two by his thick cock ramming deep. Again and again he pounded into me, taking everything he needed to fight back the demons that plagued him, and I was right there with him. Every thrust and tug, and every breath that burst out of our mouths was bringing my man back to me, back to the here and now. To the place where love reigned and the demons could slip back into their holes and die.
My body tightened at the same time that Wes’s thrusts became more insistent. His teeth were clenched, and his eyes were closed tight. There was no way I was letting him fall into the abyss without me right there with him.
“Wes…” I said, a warning in my tone.
He pounded relentlessly into me, striving for the edge. Every neuron and nerve inside me came alive, sparked, and was ready to light on fire, but I needed him there with me. Always with me.
“Wes, baby.” My voice was weak, lost in the haze of extreme desire. I was riding that wave of a pleasure so huge it would swallow me whole, but I wanted him there, too.
“Wes.” I choked back a sob as the splintering feeling of riding his cock and how it was about to take me beyond the ability to hold out.
Finally, finally he opened his eyes. Blazing green orbs of lust stared back at me, and he growled a single word. "Come."
For the first time ever, that one word did it. I shot off like a rocket into orbit, locking down my body around his while he thrust a few more times and together we found nirvana.
His cries mingled with mine, and I knew we’d be okay. As long as we could bring one another back from hell, we’d always have this.
they’d fester and the dreams could get worse.
Sprawling my body over his, I centered my chin over my hands, which were over his heart. “So…what happened in the dream?”
He sighed and pushed a hand through his unruly dirty-blond layers. The bedhead look was working for him in a big way. If he hadn’t just broken the rollercoaster ride that was my vagina from too many goes, I’d be ready to scream my way through the hills and valleys with him again. Alas, the sore, achy feeling between my legs confirmed that my pleasure center needed a comp day for sure.
“You really don’t want that shit in your head, Mia. Hell, I don’t want that shit in my head, let alone have you worrying about it.”
“Was it a flashback?” I knew he had those pretty regularly.
He shook his head, paused, and bit his lip thoughtfully. “Kind of, I guess. I was back there, in the hut. Things were different. At first, they had grabbed Gina like they did.”
I shivered, knowing exactly what those extremists had done to his ex. Repeatedly raping someone didn’t hurt only her. Wes had been forced to watch it happen day in and day out. “And what changed?” I asked softly, not wanting to spook him for sharing.
He inhaled, blinked a few times, and brought his hand to the layers of hair that had fallen in front of my face. For a few seconds, he rubbed at the strands between his fingers.
“She turned into you,” he eventually said. “How so?”
His eyebrows furrowed, but he continued to play with my hair. His gaze was
concentrated on my face as if cataloguing every feature with an intensity that he hadn't shown before.
“The hair was different at first. It was Gina’s dark hair only not black and silky like yours.” He frowned. “Then it was the lips.” With one finger he traced my pout. I
responded by kissing his fingertip. “The nose lengthened in front of my eyes.” He ran that same finger down from my brow to the tip. “Still I didn’t believe…” His voice got gravelly, as if he’d gargled with a box of jagged rocks.
“You didn’t believe what?”
“I could believe it was her until her blue eyes turned a pale, pale green. Eyes I’ve only ever seen on one person…you.”
“Oh, Wes, God…” I swallowed the emotion that was clogging my throat. “It wasn’t me.”
He closed his eyes and pointed to his heart. “I know that here, but here”—he pointed to his temple—“the details get mixed up sometimes. And tonight was the worst. One minute it was playing out like one of the nights they’d taken Gina, but then she turned into you. And Mia…I wouldn’t have survived seeing that happen to you. I can barely handle it now, having seen it happen to someone I care for, but you? Jesus…the thought alone is killing me.”
I cupped his face. “Wes. I’m right here. I was never there. You survived something horrible. You watched one of the worst things possible happen to someone you care
feel that. Take you away from that place, out of that line of thinking.”
Wes wrapped his hands around my naked back. “You are. What you’re doing. How you help me in the night. It’s getting better. I promise it is.”
Tears pooled at my eyes. “So me dragging you here isn’t making it worse?”
He smiled, did an ab curl, and slid me along his chest until our noses could touch. He kissed me long, slow, and so very deep, hand cupped around the nape of my neck to hold me at his mercy.
With little nibbles against my lips, he gently moved his face back an inch. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane. Without you, without our love, I’d have gone down a very nasty path. Mia, you give me a reason to carry on, a reason to live. You give me hope for what’s to come. Being with you is not a hardship. I wouldn’t have come if I thought being away from you was a good idea.”
I snuggled into his chest and kissed the space directly over his heart. “And if you
hadn’t come, I wouldn't have this sparkly ring on my finger.” I wiggled my left hand so he could see, and I could see the diamonds glittering in the moonlight. It was spectacular and stole my breath every time I looked at the simple design. The style was just right for me and proved my man knew me very well indeed.
He huffed. “Don’t think for a minute that I wasn’t going to ask you the first chance I got. I bought that ring right after I left Miami.”
“Miami! But that was months ago!”
He chuckled. “Yes, but if you remember, we had very little time before you were off to Texas, and then I was on assignment. The assignment from hell.”
I cringed.
“After that, I needed to heal. Didn’t want you thinking that I was asking out of some kind of PTSD distress, or trying to pick up the pieces of my life in haste. I wanted you to know I was ready, seriously ready to commit to you and our life together.”
“I love you, Weston Charles Channing, the third.” I said and smiled. “The third.” He mouthed mocking me.
So I gave him something else to mouth by shutting him up with mine.
The phone rang three times before she picked up with a breathless, “Hello.”
“Gin, what’s going on? Why are you out of breath?” I glanced at the clock and it read eleven o’clock in the morning, eight Pacific Time.
“Um, no reason. Ohhh, uh…mmm. Stop it,” she said through the phone, but I doubted she was talking to me.
“Oh, you little ho-bag. You’ve got a man there!” I giggled into the phone and tsked for her benefit. She’d be giving me a steaming bag of shit if the roles were reversed.
“Huh? No. No man. Me? Pshaw.” She over-exaggerated. “Fuck…right there.” She whispered in a way I could tell the phone was away from her mouth, but nowhere near far enough for me not to hear her words.
“He’s fucking you right now?” Blech. There are some things you don’t want to share with your best friend. This was one of those things.
“Mia, babe, this is a bad time. So…so…bad…” Her voice trailed off.
“Really? Okay, well, just wanted to give you a heads up that Wes asked me to marry him. I’m getting married on January first, destination to be determined. Enjoy your
fuckfest.”
I pressed the End button and counted down waiting for it. Five.
Four. Three. Two.
The phone rang in my palm. “Skank-a-lot-a-Puss Calling” was displayed on my cell. I waited until four rings just to make her skanky ass burn.
“Done fucking the man you’re pretending not to so soon? Must be a lousy lay.” I rushed to give her a taste of her own medicine.
Her breath was labored, though I gathered from the noises she was shuffling around the guest house. “You called me, remember? At eight o’clock in the mother flippin’
morning, on a weekday, while I was getting my hoo-hah sucked on for the first time in months and dropped that bomb on me? You suck. You know that, Mia?” She said with a heaping dose of irritation. “If you knew how bad you sucked…you’d say…God damn, I sucked!”
I snort laughed, fell back on the bed, and looked at my ring sparkling in the sunlight. Magnificent. I could not stop looking at its splendor.
“You done bitching?”
Ginelle groaned. “Well, now that I’m sans one rockin’ orgasm due to your hooker-ass dropping massive bombs on my pleasure palace, yeah, I’m done. Now, start from the beginning and tell me everything. You leave a single detail out, and I’ll replace the shampoo in your bathroom with Nair. See how much Wes likes a bald bride.”
Laughing, I went through the story of how he’d asked me. I’d spared Maddy the details that we’d just had some seriously awesome sex but not to Gin. My best friend lived off those kinds of stories.
“Wow. He’s a damn keeper for sure. So, are you really going to marry him on New Year’s Day?”
when I met him in January, he was of the exact opposite mindset.” “You were too, though,” she added helpfully.
“Not wrong there. It seems like years have gone by since then, and really, it was only ten months ago. Do you think I’m crazy or jumping into this with him?”
“Hold on.” I could hear her walking through her little guesthouse back in Malibu. A door opened and closed again, and I could just barely hear the ocean waves. She was probably on the patio overlooking the Pacific.
I had been gone only two days, and I already missed home. Amazing how quickly Wes’s mini-mansion had become home for me in such a short time.
“Really, Mia, you know I’m no expert on love, but I am an expert on you. You’ve been through some shitty men in the past.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”
“No, I must, because that’s part of what makes you who you are today. Aside from douchebag Blaine, there were a few before him that you fell for, and they broke your heart.”
“True.” I nodded and worried at my fingernail, picking at a jagged edge.
“But none of them broke you. Wes being gone in Indonesia? That destroyed you.” Just the thought of that time, the unbelievable pain and mountain of loss I’d felt, not knowing where he was or if he’d come back home, was a time in my life I never wanted to relive. “Yeah,” I managed to say softly.
Ginelle inhaled slowly, and I worried that maybe she was smoking but didn’t have the heart to nail her on it at that moment. “So can you imagine yourself ever being without him? Or better yet, can you imagine yourself ever being with anyone else?”
“Absolutely not,” I said instantly. And this is coming from a woman who loved love, even after having been burned by it several times in the past. On top of that, I enjoyed casual sex as much as the next person, but nothing would ever, could ever, take the place of Wes for me. “He’s the end-all be-all, Gin.”
“I think you have your answer.”
“Do you support me?” I waited with bated breath. I didn’t need to have Ginelle’s approval, but like she said, she did know me well. Very well. And she would have no problem telling me I was about to make a colossal mistake if that’s what she believed.
“Babe, I support you in everything you do. I may not always like it, but I’ll support it. However, with Wes…he is your end-all be-all. I can see it in you, but more importantly, Mia, I can see it in his eyes every single time he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching. He’s beyond madly in love. The sun, moon, stars…hell, the Earth spins for him, all because of you.”
“Thanks, Gin. It means a lot.”
“You know what means a lot?” Oh, yes, the snark was back. “What?”
“A delayed orgasm. Tao’s going to have to get me all fired up again. Although with that sexy hunk of Samoan goodness, the floodgates open wide for him.” She made a sound as though she were licking her chops.
She giggled. “We’ve been talking since May. He knew you were heading out. Took some time. He's spending two weeks with me, soaking up the mainlander sun and sand. I imagine we’ll need to leave the bedroom in order to soak up some sun.”
“You little harlot!”
“I know! I’m so excited. Girl…he’s making me see Hawaiian fire gods every time he—” “Enough!” I shook my head. “Please, save the details.”
“Boo. You’re no fun!”
“Go back to your man. Get all up in that Samoan goodness.” I looked around the room and listened for the shower. It was still going. Good. “I know from experience. They will knock your frickin’ socks off.”
“I think I’d have to wear a stitch of clothing in order for that to happen, but I hear you. I hear you, girl.” Her words dragged out for emphasis.
“Touché! Have fun!” I giggled and danced around the room, super stoked that my BFF was getting hers from a really good guy with an amazing family.
“Oh, I will. I will, sister. Love your ugly face.” And as was her way, Ginelle hung up before I could get in my own jab.
Chapter Three
Wes and I entered the lobby from the elevator on our way to meet Mason and Rachel for a lunch date. The second I stepped around the tall marble pillar and into the grand
opening of the lobby area, I saw Mason's large frame with his arm casually slung over his woman.
He turned, and his eyes met mine. I smiled huge. My heart thumped in my chest. The last time I’d seen him, he was taking care of me in a hotel after I’d been attacked by the California Senator.
I stopped in my tracks, but Mason did not. He practically sprinted on those long legs to my side. He threw his arms around me, picked me up, and twirled me in the air. I tucked my feet, worried I’d tag someone in the process. Finally, he stopped, set me on my feet, cupped my cheeks, and kissed my forehead.
“God, you look good, sweetness. Let me get a good look at’cha.” He had a Boston accent. There was something about those Boston boys that could get a girl riled up. He scanned me from head to toe. As usual, I wasn’t dressed like a fashionista, but I'd made a solid effort to look good. Especially for my man. I had on a pair of dark jeans, a tight cable-knit green sweater, a pair of brown high-heeled suede boots, an infinity scarf in artistic swirls of color, and a knee-length brown leather jacket. “Yep, you look smokin’ hot!”
I shoved at his shoulder. By this time, Rachel had come up. “Mia, it’s so good to see you. All I heard about all week from this guy was how excited he was to see you and meet your boyfriend.” She laughed sweetly, and I pulled her into a hug.
“Rach, it’s so good to see you guys, especially under these circumstances.” I pulled back and pushed her golden hair off her shoulder. “You look amazing. Love suits you.”
Her grin was huge as Mace looped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “Yes, yes, it does,” he agreed.
Wes hadn’t interrupted our greeting, but I could feel his heat behind my back, very close. I leaned back and, without even worrying about losing my balance, reached around. Just as I suspected, he was right there, waiting to lend me a hand or keep me upright. I grinned and looked up as I locked my arm around his waist. He smirked and winked. God, I loved when he winked at me. It was like our own special language. That one wink said, “Yes, you know I’ve got you, and I always will.”
“Mason Murphy, Rachel Denton, this is my boyfriend, Weston Channing.”
Wes held out his hand to shake first Mason's and then Rachel’s hand. “Once again, Mia, I think you mean fiancé?” He tipped his head and rubbed his nose against my temple before placing a kiss there.
Rachel’s eyes opened wide, bright as a car’s headlights in the dead of night. “You’re getting married?” she screeched.
My shoulders automatically went up toward my ears. “I so am!”
too!”
I opened my mouth to say something, but I was so overwhelmed with emotion and joy I hopped up and down like five-year-old children would when they found out they were going on a trip to Disneyland. We hugged and squeal-hopped until we were out of breath.
“Let me see your ring!” she practically shouted. I held out my hand.
“Stunning.” She turned my finger slightly to see the entire thing. “Understated and not ostentatious like some people I know.” She rolled her eyes and looked at Mason.
Mason's chest puffed out, and he smirked. “Let me see yours.”
“You can’t miss it,” she said dryly, holding back an excited smile. She put out her left hand, and the bling on her finger nearly bowled me over. It was ginormous.
“Holy shit, how many carats is that?” I asked in awe, taking in all that was the giant square-cut diamond that covered the entire surface of her finger.
“Four carat center stone, one carat on each side. Total of six carats.” The cocky reply from Mason brought me right back to that moment when we’d first met and he acted like a total douchecanoe.
I pursed my lips, put a hand on my hip, and looked at him sideways.
“What? What can I say. Baseball’s been good to me, but not as good as my girl.” He tugged Rachel to his side. “You deserve more.”
“I only wanted the man,” she grumbled, but I knew she didn’t care. Rachel was not the type of woman who worried about those things. Sure, she dressed incredibly well, was perfect for keeping Mace in check, and could easily hang with all the richie riches, but deep down, she was a normal girl who just wanted the man.
Wes laid an arm on my shoulder and leaned in, his lips near my ear. Just his breath tickling the hairs there sent a ripple of desire down my spine. He’d just had me, and I was already itching for more. Would it ever not be like this? I sure as hell hoped not.
“Mia, if you want a big rock, I’m more than happy to provide. I just didn’t think you—” I cut him off by turning around, clasping his face in my hands and slanting my lips over his.
His startled yelp was an invitation for my tongue to delve in. After a few quick tongue ticklers, I pulled back and made sure his green eyes were on mine. “I love my ring more than anything else I own. Even more than Suzi—that is, until you buy me my own
personal Ducati, or maybe down the road, the MV Augusta FCC, but that goes for about a hundred and forty Gs, which is insane, but the Ducati is only forty, which is still a lot of cash…”
Wes put two fingers over my mouth and grinned like a loon. “My girl has the chance to score a half-million dollar ring and wants a crotch rocket instead. Christ, you’re the
perfect woman.”
“Perfect for you!” I kissed his lips and tasted the mint from his toothpaste. Yum.
I narrowed my eyes so that I was looking through slits. “Excuse me, bat-boy, I’m kissing my fiancé. You got a problem with that?”
Mason threw up his hands in mock irritation. “Whatever. Come on, Rach. Let’s find some food!”
Interestingly enough, once Wes and Mace started talking sports, I could see the tension ease out of Wes’s shoulders. He’d asked me before we were set to meet Mason if I’d had relations with him. When I told him no, he seemed relieved, but still wary. Something about this new jealous side didn’t sit right with me. I’d have to discuss it with Anita, Wes’s therapist, when we were back in Malibu. There were a lot of amazing traits about my soon-to-be husband, but this new jealousy was definitely not one of them.
I guess it could be because now we were “official,” and maybe he thought he had a right to claim me? Really, I didn’t know. All I did know was that with each and every overt gesture Mace made toward Rachel, my guy noticed it and relaxed infinitesimally further, as if every simple touch was an assurance that he had nothing to worry about.
Nevertheless, what it really came down to was that he didn’t have anything to worry about because I had committed to him and only him. He needed to trust me.
That thought made me wonder why he wanted to get hitched so quickly. What was the rush? If his jealousy was the reason he wanted to get married so quickly, I was going to put a kibosh on that right quick.
“So when are you planning to get married?” I asked Rachel.
Her eyes brightened, and she leaned forward on the bar top. We’d found a pub within walking distance of the hotel that was warm, had alcoholic cider and a plethora of non-domestic beers on tap, which interested the guys, along with a decent menu.
“We’re thinking late next year. Baseball doesn’t usually end until early October, so probably right after that. Maybe the third or fourth week in October, right, honey?” She nudged Mace in the shoulder.
He crunched down on a fat onion ring the size of his palm. “Yep. Whatever you decide. I’ll be there wearing whatever you choose.”
Leave it to the man whose only plan was not to plan anything for his own wedding. Planning. Ugh. That was the last thing on Earth I wanted to do.
Rachel rolled her eyes. “It’s going to be huge. Together, we have so much family, and, of course, every member of the team and a ton of members form the other teams that he’s friends with. At last count, there were around four hundred and fifty.”
“Four hundred and fifty what?” “People.”
“Jesus! I don’t think I even know that many people in my entire life.”
Rachel shrugged. “It’s part of the business we’re in. The more the merrier, I say. It’s going to be amazing. I’m planning it all myself. On that note, let me get my calendar up.” She plucked a few things into a handheld device she’d had in her purse. It wasn’t a
looking at? We’ll cross our fingers that he won’t be at a game, but unfortunately, we can’t make any promises.” She pouted, looking genuinely sorry.
“Oh, well, we haven’t exactly decided.” I tried, but Wes would have none of that. “I’m sorry, Rachel, did you just ask the date of our wedding?”
Her eyes went to his. “I did.”
“January first, New Year’s Day,” he said with absolute confidence.
Mace whistled. “Damn, that’s soon. You got everything ready, sweetness?” At the endearment, Sweetness, Wes’s eyes narrowed at Mason.
I sighed. “Wes wants to do New Year’s Day, but I haven’t agreed.” He shook his head. “Not true. You totally agreed.”
“And need I remind you that questions asked mid-orgasm should not count against me?”
Mason slapped the table a few times and laughed his ass off. Even Rachel chuckled behind her hand.
Wes grinned. “Sweetheart, you know I’m going to win this battle, yet you’re still going to come out a victor as well. We should probably start planning. My mother will want to go all out, and seven weeks is not a lot of time.”
“Seven weeks,” I gasped, just realizing how close it really was. “Go all out?” I shook my head. Going all out was not at all what I’d want. No way. No how.
“Oh, no. Mia looks like she’s gonna hurl. Sweetness, you okay?” Mace asked, but the alarms in my head continued blaring, “Danger…Danger…Danger.”
All of a sudden my body got really hot, and I tugged on the scarf at my neck. “Hot. Is it hot in here?” I asked the group, trying to suck in more air. My heart started thumping so hard I rubbed my chest. It felt squeezed as if a truck were sitting on my chest about to crack my ribs and stealing every ounce of air I managed to suck in. It felt as though I was breathing through a straw, only small bits of air filling my lungs.
“Mia, calm down. Honey, look at me. You’re having a panic attack. Look at me!” Wes’s voice broke through my daze, and I focused on his eyes. They were swirling with fear. “Breathe with me. In…now out slowly.”
I breathed with him a few times until the truck lifted off my chest and I could finally take full, deep breaths.
“Okay, there you are. Here, have some water.” He handed me a glass.
I sipped at the frosty liquid and let the calm that came with it settle in my belly. “What happened, Mia?”
Mason was behind me. I could feel his hand smoothing up and down my spine.
“Sweetness, you need to take a chill pill. This wedding stuff can get the best of you, but really, it’s only about you and my new buddy, Wes, here. Everything else is just details.”
I closed my eyes and felt Wes cup my cheeks. “Honey, do you not want a big wedding?”
I shook my head. “Never did,” I said softly, getting myself back under control. For a moment there, I thought I was going to black out.
“Okay, then. We’ll go small. Hell, we can elope if you’d like.”
from her.”
“Well, what about something small, more quaint? Where’s a place that reminds you of one another?” Rachel spoke softly while I stared into Wes’s beautiful eyes.
We both smiled, and at the same time said exactly the same thing. “The beach.” Rachel clapped. “That was so cute! Awww.”
Mason groaned. “Beach wedding. Cool, guys. How’s that gonna work in January? Isn’t it cold?”
Wes shook his head. “Nope. Actually, the weather in Malibu in January is usually really beautiful. Seventies, even eighties sometimes. Thought it can dip down into the sixties. Either way, it’s still perfect.”
Our beach. Marrying the man I love, steps away from where we surfed, walked, cuddled, and watched the sunset with the waves and sun as our background.
“Wes, it’s perfect. Let’s get married on our beach.” “And what about a reception?” he asked.
And this is where I would probably score some serious points with my soon-to-be mother in law. “What about your parents’ estate?”
His eyes gleamed, positively smiled in response. “She would love that. We can get married on our beach for us. Have our reception at my childhood home.” He held my cheeks. “Christ, I love you more and more each and every day.”
“Rockin’,” I whispered as he laughed and kissed me sweetly. Nothing like his normally intense kisses, but definitely one to remember.
“Well that’s settled. Now I know it’s going to be small, but can we come? Mason will be available in January, and we’d love to see Malibu.”
“Of course. The more the merrier.” I repeated her earlier response.
“Really?” Wes’s shocked expression probably meant he hadn’t heard the sarcasm in my tone.
I shook my head. “No, not really. I can mentally make a list of twenty or less that I would invite. Can you get your list to twenty or less?”
He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I don’t know. We’ll talk about it, though. I’ll make a list tonight.”
Tonight. He’d make a list of who to invite to our wedding tonight. The man was dead set on this happening in seven weeks. Now I only needed to get to the bottom of why.
a bond over the month I was there and again when he came to my rescue the last time we were in New York. My relationship with him felt very much like the relationship I had with my brother Maxwell—another person I needed to call and give a heads up about the wedding. Then again, we were due to hit Texas for Thanksgiving, so I’d see him in a couple weeks anyway. First and foremost, I needed to deal with Wes and his obsessive compulsion need to get married immediately.
“You know, I like Mason and Rachel. They’re a great couple. Good team, too,” Wes said as he pulled off his shirt.
For a moment I lost all train of thought. Weston’s bare, muscled chest was on full display in front of me, and it deserved a moment of silent reflection. Reminded me of one of those famous paintings by Monet or Van Gogh. When they were on full display, the lighting just right, they put the observer in a trance, as did my man’s sexy ass body.
Wes grinned. “Cat got your tongue?” He probably saw the drool sliding down my chin. I shook my head. Nope. Not gonna happen. Do not deviate from course. Need
answers.
“Wes, can I ask you something?” I asked at the same time that he pushed down his jeans and stood in only his briefs.
Fight it, Mia. Fight! You can do this. Do not let the sexy bastard get you off your train of thought. This is important.
I licked my lips as I took in the eye-candy that was my fiancé. Jesus, he could be a male model, only with some serious bulk. Those hours upon hours of surfing did wonders for his physique.
“Of course, sweetheart.” Wes sat down next to me, grabbed my ankle, and ran his hand up my calf. It wasn’t a sexual caress, but my body couldn’t tell the difference. The instant his hand touched my skin, a warmth I couldn’t ignore spread from where his hand touched me and up through my entire body.
Think, Mia. Okay. I closed my eyes and tried to remember what I wanted to say. “Honey, you’re scaring me. What is it?” Wes's tone held a nervous edge. His fingers dug into my chin, not hurting, but definitely bringing me back to the present moment.
“Why are you so insistent on getting married so quickly?” My words released in a rush. Wes’s shoulders slumped. He rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands.
“Wes, baby, what is it?” I crawled over to him on the bed and ran my hand along his back.
“It’s not that we can’t wait. I know we could spend some time planning, but Mia,
Jesus, after the time I spent locked up…the only thing that gave me hope was thinking of you. You were my constant. I had to survive. I just had to because I wanted to be there for you more than anything.”
future.”
“So you see, it’s not that it needs to be rushed, I just don’t want to waste one more minute of my life than I have to with you not being mine. Marrying you, putting that ring on your finger was all I thought about when it got really bad. I imagined a hundred ways I could ask you. A hundred ways you’d respond, but in the end, in bed where it was me and you, away from all the therapy, the stress of my job, of my family, I knew it was the right time.”
I kissed his back and let his words sink in. He didn’t want to waste another minute more without me. It wasn’t about jealousy or rushing into something. It was about commitment. Being with me. Me being with him. Us being one. A family.
“Okay. So that’s it. We’ll get married on our beach in Malibu and head to your parents' place for the reception. You wanna make our lists of guests?”
He flipped around, flung me onto my back, and was between my thighs in a flash. Talent was one of the many reasons I loved my guy.
“We’ll make the lists after.”
I waggled my brows at him. “After what?” I asked coyly. “After I fuck the hell out of my fiancée.”
The words rippled through my chest and tingled all the way down to the heat between my thighs. “I think that’s doable,” I agreed and smiled, lifting up toward his mouth so I could kiss him.
“No, Mia. You’re doable,” he quipped, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth.
I groaned and wrapped my legs around his waist, bringing him closer. “Then do me,” I said, breathless.
“With pleasure.” He growled.
“Who’s pleasure? Mine or yours?” I quipped, giggling, loving this light side to our passion.
Chapter Four
A week later, the studio team arrived at Anton’s penthouse at the crack of dawn. Anton wasn’t even awake yet. Apparently, he and Heather had torn up the town with a few other music industry folks. Still, he let me use his pad to film the segment and interview both him and Mason there. Heather was awake of course, looking rock star chic, even though I could see the tinge of purple under her pretty blues. Her make-up was dialed in and her outfit was on point as usual.
I wore what I considered a very sexy black pinstriped pencil skirt, black knee-high boots, and a white silk blouse that had ties that wrapped around the neck. A chunky red bracelet and necklace completed the look. It must have looked pretty sexy. Wes
practically assaulted me when I came out of the bedroom this morning before leaving the hotel. His hardened shaft was evidence enough that he desired me, not to mention the way he’d pulled me against his body and palmed my bum with both hands, grinding up against me like a sex-starved maniac. It took every ounce of control I possessed not to let him take me right there up against the wall in our suite. Alas, I was very determined to knock out this segment quickly, spend time with my friends, and head back to my personal o-trigger detonator. I swear, the way Wes looked at me half the time was enough to set my loins ablaze.
Shaking off all thoughts of Wes naked and ready back at our hotel, I sucked in a calming breath, closed my eyes, and counted to ten. When I opened them, I felt more connected to the job and the task at hand.
The crew bustled around me, setting up in the plush formal living room. It was
decorated with a serious Puerto Rican flare that immediately reminded me of Anton. He’d taken his time with this room. I’d chosen it for the segment with Anton because it most reflected the man I believed Anton to be—the personal side, not the public persona. This room spoke of the richness and colorful diversity of the Puerto Rican culture, something I knew was very close to Anton’s heart.
There were pieces of art hanging on the walls from local artists who lived there and statues made from wood whittlers in his hometown. The woven fabric blankets his mother had made were all lovingly placed with care across the deep burgundy leather couches. The furniture alone suggested that a guest should pull up a seat and stay
awhile. That was Anton. With his true friends and family, he always lent a hand where he could and made sure to offer a comfy place for those he loved to be near him wherever he hung his hat.
It made me wonder if the glasses were for show or whether she needed them more to fit her hipster style. Either way, I chose not to say anything because she was amazing, and working with her was a dream. From what I understood from Wes, production
assistants who weren’t annoying or clamoring for the spotlight were hard to come by. He also thought Kathy was an old soul in a young woman’s body. I’d yet to figure out what her future goals were, but for now, I hoped I made her happy enough to stay with me through however long the Living Beautiful segment lasted with Dr. Hoffman.
“Ms. Saunders…“
I rolled my eyes. I’d told Kathy a hundred times over to call me Mia, but she straight up refused. Found it disrespectful.
“Mr. Murphy is here with Ms. Denton. I’ve got them both in makeup, which surprised Ms. Denton.” Kathy pressed her glasses up her nose even though they didn’t seem to be falling down.
I grinned. “I know. Let her be mystified. She doesn’t know that Mason has it planned to announce her as his fiancé publicly on my show. It’s been on the down-low,
apparently. I just found out myself, but he wants the world to know he’s off the market and no longer a confirmed bachelor.”
Kathy’s eyes lit up with a little twinkle. “Love it. Dr. Hoffman will positively swoon, and Leona”—she shook her head at the mention of the big boss who ran the entire show —“she might kiss your feet!” She giggled, put her hand over her mouth, and looked
around as if afraid someone might have heard her less than professional slip-up.
I rested my hand on her bicep. “Kathy, it’s just you and me. And you’re right. Leona will laugh manically when the first announcement is made on our show. Sometimes it’s good to have friends in high places, right?” I nudged her shoulder, and her cheeks pinked as she nodded.
“So do we know if the media room is almost set up? With Anton being out of commission for at least another couple hours, I’d like to move forward on Mason.”
She nodded, pecked on her electronic device with one finger, and pursed her lips. “I’ll make sure. Should be ready to go by the time they are out of makeup.”
I walked through the house and checked on the various spots we’d chosen to shoot for different parts of the segments. Wes and I decided we’d work together and knock out as much as possible on this trip because we needed a full month's worth of content. That way, I had the end of November and most of December free to be with my family.
Max had made it clear that if he didn’t have his sisters at his ranch in Texas on Thanksgiving he’d be hurt. Of course Maxwell was far too manly to say it like that, but he’d definitely hinted that it would make his entire year if we were able to come. Full of new-baby hormones, Cyndi made it very clear that her husband would be broken up if Maddy and I couldn’t make it. Moreover, I desperately wanted to meet Jackson, my first nephew. Plus the fact that my brother had paid a few hundred thousand dollars of my father’s debt to save mine and my best friend’s ass back in September made me think that hitting Texas for Thanksgiving was the least I could do.
Rachel and Mason were sitting facing the big mirror over the double sinks. “Hey, guys, they making you pretty for the cameras?”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, but why am I getting my makeup done?”
I tried to play dumb and just shrugged nonchalantly. “Just in case we end up having something that pans the area, or maybe we end up asking you a question or two.”
Not wanting to ruin the surprise, I moved over to Mace. “Looking dead sexy there, bro.” I punched his arm as hard as I could.
“Ouch!” He cringed and rubbed at his arm. “Love you too, Mia. See how she treats me, Rach? No respect. I should tell the papers something gross about my month with her, something like…” He scratched at his chin, pretending to think about it. He snapped his fingers and pointed at my reflection in the mirror. “Something like she picked her nose and wiped it on my wall.” He grinned manically.
My eyes practically bugged out of my head. “That’s sick! You wouldn’t!”
His eyes narrowed into slits. “I so would. Don’t tempt me, bruiser.” He rubbed at his arm, which couldn’t possibly be that sore. He’d had his best buddy, Junior, tag him a lot harder on multiple occasions.
“Wuss!” I shot back, not caring about the consequences.
“Stop it, you two. It’s time to get serious,” Rachel said. It would have sounded a lot more powerful if she didn’t have her mouth in a fishy-face pucker while the makeup artist applied lip gloss. “Mia, do you have your questions ready? I’d like to see them.”
Oh, shit. That was not good. Trying to hide something from your PR representative wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. I glanced at Mason, and his eyebrows rose.
“Um, yeah, but uh…”I tried to think of anything I could say to get her off the path as well as avoid wanting to see the questions I planned on asking Mason.
“Rach, babe, I approved them already.”
Her eyes turned into daggers. “You what? That’s my job. I can’t believe you’d do that.”
“Babe…” His eyes turned soft, and he reached out and took her hand. “It’s Mia. She’s not asking anything inappropriate, and you were busy dealing with that pencil dick from PowerStrong drinks. Remember?”
“Oh, that guy was such a tool. Do you know he wanted you to offer to be a
spokesperson for their second line pro bono? And it wasn’t even for charity.” She shook her head and her cheeks pinked up in irritation. “They thought they were big enough to not have to pay for each promotion. Pig,” she whispered under her breath.
Okay, that sounded like my cue. “See ya in the media room. Guys, how much longer until they’re ready?”
“’Bout five minutes,” one of the makeup artists said while fluffing Mason’s hair into something stylish yet cool.
“Me too,” the other one said. He held a large blush brush and was touching up Rachel’s face with powder to seal the job.
“Hello, and welcome to a very special segment of Living Beautiful we’re calling ‘Be
Thankful.’ Today’s guest is none other than professional baseball player Mason Murphy.” I turned to look at Mason, who was sitting in the white leather love seat across from me looking cool as a cucumber. “Mason, thank you for joining us today.”
“Anything for you, sweetness. You know that.” He winked. I grinned and leaned back. “Still the charmer, I see.”
“Only for you. Since you broke my heart.”
This was part of the special I had not been expecting. Sure, as far as the public knew, I’d technically dated Mason Murphy for a month back in April. “I did not. You’re terrible.”
He smirked. “Nah, we’re just good friends.”
“That’s right. And as good friends, I’d like to share a bit about the side of Mason Murphy that your fans and the fans of the Dr. Hoffman show don’t already know about you. You game?” I teased.
“Bring it on.” He sat back, arms spread wide over the back of the love seat, one ankle up on his opposite knee. His pose said casual and comfortable. Just the side we wanted the rest of the world to see. That part I knew Rachel agreed with.
“Okay, my first question is: what are your plans for Thanksgiving?”
He smoothed a hand along his rugged chin and smiled. “Gonna hang with the fam. My brothers and father are big on the holidays, and we do what we can to be together
whenever we can.”
“That sounds lovely.”
“It is, but what’s better than that is I’ll be bringing my fiancée.”
I knew my eyes lit up like Christmas trees and were paired with his eyes as he looked off to the side at Rachel, whose chin was hanging down to her chest.
“Are you announcing that you are engaged?” I asked, leaning forward as if I were hearing this secret for the first time.
Mason nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Well, you should know. You’re the woman who set us up!” He laughed and chuckled.
“This is true, but you’ve been very private about your relationship since you and I dated back in April. The masses are probably pretty surprised by this information. I can almost hear the hearts breaking across the nation as we speak.”
He slapped his knee and coughed into his closed fist. “I think it’s about time the world knew just how committed I am.” His words were confident and cocky, as usual.
“Well, folks. You heard it here first. And as an extra special treat, Mason Murphy is going to introduce the world to his fiancée after this commercial break. Stay tuned!”
“And cut,” said the director.
I hopped up and whooped. “This is so fantastic!” I squealed, looking for Rachel among the crew to see how she reacted to him spilling the beans.
“Rach, come here. Come sit down.”
the room. However, Mace and I agreed that it was time to make the world see that our time together wasn’t a big deal, plus he was very tired of keeping what they had more private. Sure, there was talk of her being his girlfriend, but they’d never confirmed it. The smut mags had some pictures from times they’d been out together but again, no official word had been given until now. It was easy to pawn any sightings off as him meeting with his PR team.
“What are you doing?” She grabbed Mason’s outstretched hand as he pulled her down to sit on the couch next to him.
“I’m tired of pretending. You’re going to be my wife next year. I want the world to know it. No more hiding. No more denying. I’m done with all that. A new year is on the horizon, and I want to spend the next season with every woman in the world knowing I’m yours. Better yet, I want every man knowing all of this”—he ran his hands down her back in a suggestive yet still not completely inappropriate way—“is all mine.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know about all this.” Rachel bit down on her lip, clearly worried about how the fans would take this new information about his personal life.
He grinned and looped an arm around her waist, pulled her right up against his side, and kissed her cheek. “Well, I am. Let’s do this, Mia.”
“You got it, Mace.”
The cameras turned back on, and the camera guy held out his hand and counted down to one from five.
“Welcome back to our special episode of Dr. Hoffman called ‘Be Thankful.’ I’m sitting here with Mason Murphy, recently called the best pitcher in the history of baseball, who has something to share with our audience. Mason, can you introduce the beautiful woman you have sitting next to you?” I suggested.
The cameraman moved, and the spotlight shone brighter over my friends. “Of course. This here is my fiancée, Rachel Denton. She runs all my PR and works for my publicist firm. I gather right about now she’s probably pretty mad you and me for conspiring behind her back to make this announcement right now, but I don’t care.”
I laughed. “Don’t be mad, Rachel. Mason wanted to surprise you.”
Rachel smiled, and her cheeks turned a rosy pink as Mason squeezed her shoulder. “So Mason, the nation knows that you’ve been single for a while. How do you feel about finding the lucky woman at your side?”
“You know, Mia, I feel thankful. Rachel is my perfect better half, and I can’t wait to make her my wife.”
I licked my lips and watched as Mason wooed the world and his girl in an interview that would be broadcast on national television.
“Okay, Mason, now that you’ve dropped a bomb so big that all the single women in the world will be crying into their Cheerios, let’s bring it back to topic. We’re finding out what our celebrity friends are thankful for. You’ve mentioned your fiancée already, which I totally agree with. Rachel is something to be thankful for! But what else?”
